Paint it Black
by IceShadow
Summary: AU smut. Yakuza, dance club, drinking and sex. OshitariKamio


Paint it Black 

Characters Oshitari/Kamio

Disclaimer: The characters themselves are not mine, but the characterizations are all mine.  
Warning: R people. Very R.

Summary: Triple D! Drinking, Dancing and Debauchery.

I don't claim to understand this pairing. They just sort of happened thanks to my Aki-love and I'm just fine with that. Love these two. I'm sure I'll throw some more of them up here eventually. If anyone is interested in reading any of my other writings on PoT (because I don't throw drabbles and little things up here) you can visit my writing journal at Livejournal.

mecha(underscore)musings.

oooooooo

The dark sky loomed over the metropolis, washing out the world and turning it into gray. There was nothing good here anymore, nothing sane. The place was crushed beneath the power struggle of mob members, ripping the great city at the seams as four major factions warred for the rule.

Oshitari stepped into the club, letting the roaring music wash over his normally conservative form. He had to get away, drown himself in the noise of mechanical whines and hissing machines…or in the drugs and sex that followed. Walking further in, the techno thrum shivered over him, engulfing him in the dark sonic screams. His eyes closed against the wave of sound, it echoed in his mind as the jump and bounce of bodies was burned into his brain, still dancing behind the closed lids.

Sitting at the bar, a single cobalt eye spotted the other man, training in like the skilled assassin that he was. Kamio Akira tilted his head up, pale fingers wrapped around a shot glass. He had been about to shoot back the Zombie in his hand but he paused, wondering what the lovely hitman was doing in Sinpathy. Shrugging thin shoulder he shot it back, hissing as the famous 'prom dress remover' shot burned down his throat and left him feeling a step closer to oblivion.

He left his eye on the other man, dressed so differently then normal in black leather pants and mesh top. Through the mesh silver glinted, betraying the studs that pierced through both nipples. Silver wire glasses caught the glint of spinning lights, bouncing the illumination back out into the crowd as he stood on the edges, eyes closed against the heat and sound.

Electronaut replaced Airwave as the music shifted to something entirely too fun to dance to. The redhead was well on his way to drunk, high and stupid at this point and he didn't give a damn if the other man had the highest kill count in the entire underworld. Kamio Akira would have his dance and that was that.

Oshitari opened his eyes and immediately saw the redhead walking towards him, knee high boots carried him closer, moving through the crowd like a magnet reflecting the poles. Black bondage shorts hung off skinny hips, exposing a slit of pale stomach as the black tank top barely reached the edge of the pants, clinging to tiny muscled torso, leaving luminescent arms bare.

Hands fluttered at his sides briefly, ready to slip down to his boots and pull out his guns if needed. This was an enemy faction approaching after all and despite the fact that he had no desire to be bothered with his job at the moment, his own life was on the line.

He saw the hands move, knew the other man had those guns on him. The guns that had taken so many lives with a single shot, a blink of an eye. The worry was brief, fleeting in his alcohol riddled brain as he closed in and wrapped both hands in the mesh without any preamble. Of course he wasn't thinking, obviously neither was the beautiful dark haired man in front of him as he very blatantly let the redhead thread pale fingers in the fishnet of his shirt.

Standing on tiptoe he brought his lips close to the other, still wet with the last shot, tasting of orange juice and 151-proof rum. They whispered in his ear, a tempting lilt that left the taller man shuddering.

"Dance with me."

Oshitari let himself be taken to the floor, hand in hand with the smaller redhead. The very heat of it made him sigh as the Fudomine assassin ground up against him, wrapping those pale arms around his neck and pulling him down for an even hotter kiss. Finally he reacted, strong arms curling around that tiny waist, pulling the other's hips against his. The kiss was his jump-start, lighting the flame inside him and starting the dance.

Saeki Kojirou watched from the bar, blinking as he saw two of the most die hard factions meet on the dance floor. No blood was spilled but he was sure other things would be later if there was any indication in that kiss. The white-haired man just shook his head, stranger things had happened of course, and in this world of sex, drugs and death…every little bit of human comfort was welcome.

So it showed as Hyoutei and Fudomine coiled and clung on the dance floor, making all other dancers obsolete as fire and ice melted and reformed into something entirely different.

Oshitari was the ice, hard and cold in all the right places and Kamio burned like liquid fire, moving with the rhythm in perfect sync. The world spiraled and tunneled until they only saw one another, grinding and moving, clinging and cleaving to each other as if the world would end tomorrow and this was the last dance.

The dark eyed hitman's hand came up, tilting the panting pale visage of the other man towards him. Lips met, burning like molten steel as tongues touched quenching the thirst for something far deeper then cool liquid. Hands left the waist, that was perfectly happy staying pressed against the other man without the aiding pull of those fingers, and buried in the red hair, moist with sweat. Kamio panted into the kiss, fingers digging into powerful shoulders, black painted nails pressing into the white skin that peeked out of lattice holes.

Breaking free of the kiss, panting mere inches from the lips he wanted to devour, the redhead gasped. "Upstairs."

Oshitari easily complied, walking to the bar and dragging the redhead along with him. His face never changed, eyes so cold they left people frozen in their wake, standing still and staring after, cursing the lucky redhead that was in tow. Kamio grinned smugly, pressing himself up against the other's back when he stopped, hands crawling up underneath the fishnet and caressing slightly damp but still cool skin.

The taller man held his hand out to Saeki, never bothering to say a word. The bartender knew what he wanted and easily produce a key, placing it in the hitman's palm. He curled his fingers around the key and paused, shivering as a hot tongue wormed it's way into the lattice work shirt, pressing against the skin. Moving away with effort he climbed the staircase and walked towards the rooms reserved for more private acts. He ducked into the furthest one, grabbing the redhead and swinging him inside, slamming the door closed behind him.

Kamio was swung, but grabbed the front of Oshitari's shirt, dragging him with him towards the wrought iron bed. The room was sparse, bed and bathroom and toys hidden in a stainless steel dresser. Not made for sleeping but for far more intimate acts that could not take place on the dance floor below.

The tiny redhead drug the other man to the bed, knees hitting off the side and falling backwards only to pull Oshitari on top of him. The bespectacled hitman, caught himself, both hands landing on either side of the other's head. Kamio arched upwards, claiming that mouth, hands crawling like spiders over that strong back, finding the hem of the shirt and tugging it up. It took a minute of struggle to get it off, the mesh catching on the barbells that skewered the Oshitari's nipples causing the other's face to contort in pain and pleasure.

With the shirt gone, hands were free to feel the skin beneath, caressing and clawing. Fingers moved down that strong chest, hooking nails onto those silver studs and twisting.

"Ah…" Oshitari jerked, eyes snapping closed as the other twisted more, dark smile slipping over the redhead's lips. Kamio tormented them more, before the other grabbed both his hands and pinned them against the bed, hips grinding down against the redhead's thigh. Kamio moaned as he felt the hardness confined behind leather, so prominent as it pressed into his leg. Oshitari tilted his head down, running lips over the exposed throat, tongue darting out to press against the hollow and continue down to bite at the gentle curve of collarbone.

Kamio was drunk and he wanted this man, wanted him so badly it burned. So intense it left him gasping and panting and he hadn't even been touched yet. Oshtiari was driving him insane without the sex, vaguely in his inebriated mind he wondered what was going to happen when the real fun actually started.

Oshitari wouldn't keep him waiting. He shoved the other up further on the bed, discarding tank top and wrestling with the studded belt and buttons of the bondage shorts. What better way to forget the suffering then to be consumed in another human being, especially one that seared his soul with just a touch and a kiss. Finally the shorts were gone, no underwear beneath, obviously a hedonist at heart. He left those boots on, finding them painfully sexy on the, now nude, man beneath him. Leaning down he kissed the concave of stomach, fingers digging into the ribcage that stood out under parchment skin. He bit and licked, worshiping pale flesh and jutting bones as the redhead writhed and clawed at the sheets. Vocal and expressive at all the right times, drowning them both in the heady sexual atmosphere that claimed their minds, dragging them away from a reality that was more likened to the nightmares of the normal populace.

Fingers slipped into black hair, so dark it reflected blue in the highlights, and tugged the bespectacled man up so he could devour that mouth. It also gave ample opportunity to undo those leather pants, snapping the button loose and freeing the other's arousal. Someone else was obviously just as much a hedonist as he was, he thought, running his hands over the soft flesh, thumb pressing into the sensitive head. The caress earned him a bite so hard it would leave a mark for weeks, setting the redhead practically screaming. Strong legs wrapped around the taller man's waist, twice as heavy because of those weighty boots.

Oshitari kissed the already forming bruise on the beautiful speed demon's neck, tongue dipping into the indent of teeth. Those legs pulled his hips down, as the pale arms moved to wrap back around his neck, head trying to turn for another kiss but the angle denying him that. Fingernails dug into Oshitari's back in frustration, hips arching up as one hardness ran against another, both shuddering against each other in reaction to such an intimate touch.

"God…give it to me…" Kamio moaned, pressing against the other again. It had been so long, months since he'd been touched like this. He needed it, wanted it, burned for it. He couldn't possibly take more teasing or he'd spend himself right there with nothing more then a few more grinds of his hips.

It was so easy to comply, because he burned for it just as much as the smaller man beneath him. Lips parted as he sat back, brushing them briefly against the redheads in one last teasing caress before leaning back completely to move away. Kamio grabbed the other's wrists, dragging him back down before he could move any further, refusing to let that heat away from him for more then a few seconds. Oshitari blinked in surprise as he found his face mere inches from the redhead's again, dark eye blinking behind the glass.

"Don't leave me like this…" there was something of a catch behind the annoyance, tiny body betraying it's real strength as the grip tightened more so around his wrist.

"I wasn't going anywhere…wouldn't dream of it, Kamio-kun…" his voice was pure sex, purring and slicking like velvet over the porcelain skin beneath him. The redhead groaned, legs squeezing around the other's body that sprawled over him.

"Akira…call me Akira…" he didn't care if this was some one night stand, he wouldn't have such formalities with such an intimate act, it tarnished it somehow, made it more real and less like the beautiful dream that it was turning into.

"Then call me Yuushi…" head tilted to purr even deeper, quieter. Those words spoken just for the body beneath him. "Now I'm simply going to get something…" he assured, kissing him again, this time a gentle press, before he moved back again. The redhead's fingers released him, legs sliding splayed on either side of the lovely hitman. Lying exposed like this underneath the dangerous man was a thrill unto itself, he let his own fingers drift absently over his stomach, feeling the sweat drying cold while the other was away. He hated being cold.

Oshitari grabbed what he needed out of the drawer, setting the tube within reach as he paused, watching the other's tapered fingers run over his own skin. The black painted nails contrasted sharply against the white flesh, drawing those dark blue eyes like a moth to a flame. And oh how he wanted to burn up in that fire, scorch and die, rising like a phoenix from the ash.

Perhaps this was just what he needed.

"Yuushi…" Kamio's lips parted, spreading his legs further, his hand slipped down between them, gripping his own arousal and stroking. Visible eye fell to half lidded, staring out in sultry splendor as he pleasured himself. Pale digits slid over sensitive skin, hips arching up into his caress.

Mesmerized he watched the other shudder and arch into his own touch, eye closing and hips pressing upwards into the gripping hand. He was riveted on the moaning redhead, bringing himself slowly closer as he leaned back and watched. Moments passed as the heat grew, practically radiating as the others voice grew, hand moving faster.

Finally he let his lips meet the other's, not able to watch and not touch any longer. They lost themselves in the play of lips and tongue, tasting each other in the most intimate of ways. As their kisses continued, Oshitari slicked his fingers with the lube he had removed from the drawer, preparing himself so he could prepare the other.

Kamio was oblivious beneath those talented lips, arms tight around the hitman's neck, until he felt the press against his opening. He was prepared for a rough entry, he didn't care at this point, but gentle fingers slipped in instead of the sharp penetration he had held his breath in waiting for.

The taller of the pair had felt the tension as his touch pressed inside, an expulsion of breath betrayed that the redhead had been holding his. He let it go, felt it changing somehow, even as his gentle preparations betrayed the rough and desperate actions from earlier. Fingers slowly moved and stretched, the body writhed in response, turning the once overheating passion into a slow and persistent burn.

Finally fingers slid free, moving to lay flat on the bed near the others head, supporting him above the redhead. Blue eyes opened to stare up into dark, violet tinted orbs, blinking when he found he couldn't look away. Though the one above him didn't seem to be able to pull away either, he only moved enough to press in again, slow and steady.

Kamio's fingers flexed into the other's shoulders, it was big and filling him in all the right ways. He pressed back, wanting more even if the stretch hurt him a bit. Oshitari moved slowly and carefully, reaching down to pin the smaller one's hips down so he couldn't push back anymore. They would take this at his pace for now. Fingertips turned into nails as they bit into the skin, the redhead growling at being restrained, even if it was for his own comfort.

The dark haired hitman slipped all the way in, angling up until the other lurched off the bed in pleasure, screaming loud enough that it echoed in the sparse room. It just made him want him more, if that was even possible at this point. Oshitari slid back only to push back in, the redhead shuddering and pressing back with the movements. Legs wrapped tight, pulling the body up and angling it even more as the dark haired hitman started the rhythm, fast and steady. Perfect.

Their movements synced almost instantly, the redhead arching up as the other pressed down. Pushing and pulling, clawing and panting, the world was turning into the Inferno. Oh, if this was what the fires of hell would feel like, Oshitari would burn forever in them.

Kamio's arms tightened, pulling the other closer to cover his moaning lips, sealing the sound between them. He was so hot, he couldn't breathe, the pleasure was building and making his blood run like acid through his veins. He didn't need to be touched, the rub against the other's stomach was taking him high enough.

The taller of the pair broke the kiss, gasping as his eyes reopened, meeting the blue beneath his. Kamio blinked, catching those blue violet depths as they opened and he was stuck. His lower lip trembled lightly as the orgasm hit, slamming into him like a gut check, only washed with such pleasure it left him screaming the hitman's name.

Oshitari followed soon after, body shuddering as it pressed into the shaking one beneath his in one final thrust. He spilled over, pleasure and release, leaving him breathless but still staring at the beauty beneath him. Both shook slightly as they came down, Kamio lying with his eyes closed, struggling to open them to see if what he had seen before was still there, even after the pure white of orgasm had claimed his sight.

Finally the blue eyes opened again, red hair having fallen back from the scarred side of his face. He felt fingers touch the knife wound there and he flinched but didn't pull away. His legs fell away, hitting the bed with a thud as they lay parted on either side of Oshitari. He felt weak, trapped by the eyes that pinned him in place, suddenly cool fingertips brushing over the forbidden side of his face.

Oshitari sighed softly, finally coming back to his senses, the space less bright though the redhead still shown, all he could see in the vague hazy world around him. He let his hand move away from the scar, the other flicking his head to set the fall of red hair back in place, hiding behind the thick auburn strands.

They remained like that, staring into each other's eyes in silence. Then Kamio shifted slightly, his mind having been going a million miles a minute behind the calm cerulean of those orbs.

"Take me home with you?" he said, spontaneously. He didn't want this man out of his sight, he didn't want the touch to ever be taken. Kamio found himself not caring about his faction at the moment, what was life if he was going to let such potential slip out of his fingers.

Oshitari was surprised by the sudden question, finding that his mind had been thinking something along similar lines. This darkness they lived in was only parted by light rarely and if you could grab onto a little of that light and bottle it up, keep it close so it could shine down on you always. Why pass up such an opportunity? Think of the consequences later and accept them for this little bit of heaven in a life lived in hell.

"Alright…"


End file.
